


Warmth

by Petrichora_Vellichor



Series: The Smolder Series (WIP) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Chipper Gabriel, Cuddling, Established Friends With Benefits, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Meg isn't great at spotting irony, Roommates, Sick Meg Masters, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 20:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19280416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petrichora_Vellichor/pseuds/Petrichora_Vellichor
Summary: In which Meg's roommate-slash-friend(?)-with-benefits-but-definitely-not-boyfriend, Gabriel, takes care of her when she's sick.





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [all-or-nothing-baby (BundleOfSoy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BundleOfSoy/gifts).



Come Monday, Meg decided, she was going to _kill_ Sam Winchester.

It was only fair when you thought about it, and she’d had all last night to think about it as she’d coughed and sneezed and _not fucking slept_ due to being unable to breathe through her nose, all thanks to Sam “I-Come-to-Work-All-Week-Even-When-I’m-Sick” Winchester. The fact that he’d shown up at the office on Friday smiling and looking ninety-five percent back to normal just added insult to injury: while she spent her Saturday bundled miserably on the couch watching reruns of _CSI Miami_ , Winchester was probably out enjoying himself, running six marathons or whatever the fuck someone who ate a kale salad for lunch every day did for fun on their days off. Bastard.

It didn’t help that it was the middle of winter and the building’s heat was out, and Meg had lived there long enough to know that it wasn’t getting fixed any time soon. Chuck wasn’t an asshole the way some of Meg’s previous landlords had been, but he was flaky as hell and seemed more interested in drafting his weekly newsletter than actually managing the property. The only plus side was that he often forgot to collect rent until mid-way through the month, a notable perk when you were living paycheck to paycheck.

Snatching a tissue from the box at her side, Meg blew her nose for what felt like the hundredth time and tugged her blanket closer. The living room got a bit more direct sunlight than the rest of the apartment and was therefore slightly warmer than her bedroom, but even so, she was practically shivering. For a moment, she actually contemplated relocating to Gabriel’s room, which was usually the warmest in the apartment, before ultimately deciding she was better off staying on the couch.

Gabriel had been her roommate for the past four months, ever since Meg had broken things off with her cheating ex and subsequently found herself unable to afford rent on her own. After interviewing what felt like half the city’s psych ward, she’d settled on Gabriel Milton, who was new to the neighborhood and looking for a place close to the soul food restaurant he’d just gotten a job at. Meg’s first impression of Gabriel was that his perpetual lopsided smile would get real old real fast, but he’d been the first person she’d met with who had both a steady job and no police record, so she’d figured what the hell and told him to move in his stuff.

And if they had hooked up since then, well, that was neither here nor there.

It was a one-time thing, she’d said; of course, he’d agreed. That it had been a one-time thing three times now was something Meg refused to think too much about and which Gabriel thankfully never seemed to feel the need to remind her.

Her stomach rumbled, and she was just contemplating dragging herself to the kitchen to see what she might be able to scrape together this late in the month when the front door unlocked with a click and Gabriel entered, a few errant snowflakes still clinging to his clothes. He took one look at her, wrapped up from head to toe in her bed’s thickest blanket and surrounded by a nest of used tissues, and grinned.

“Well hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, turning to hang his beanie and scarf on the rack by the door, “finally managed to slay that dragon you were fighting last night?”

Meg gave him a withering glare. “Yeah, and I’m still in a killing mood, so go ahead, keep talking.”

“Fine, fine, have it your way,” replied Gabriel, still smiling as he set down his messenger bag to strip off his coat. “I mean, I was _going_ to tell you that I brought us dinner, but if you’d rather I keep that bit of information to myself…”

Damn it. Well, no point in giving in easy. She gave a dismissive shrug. “Depends what you brought.”

“Fried chicken, mac and cheese, and enough cornbread to use as a pillow.” Gabriel held up a finger in a gesture of “but wait, there’s more!” and pulled a small plastic container out of his messenger bag. “Even whipped up some peach cobbler for dessert.”

Meg arched a brow, grudgingly impressed. “Aren’t you worried they’re gonna fire you one of these days for all the free food you take?”

“Eh, not really,” said Gabriel, picking up his bag and moving to the kitchen. “Missouri _loves_ me, says I’m the best cook she’s ever had. Besides, she’s the one who tells me to take it.”

“Really.”

“Swear to God! Apparently, I look ‘underfed’.”

Meg scoffed, twisting to look over the back of the couch as Gabriel bustled about the kitchen. “Well, you are kinda short.”

“I prefer ‘fun sized’,” said Gabriel, throwing her a wink as he spooned food onto two plates. “And anyhoo, _you_ try saying no to her. Pretty sure she’d just stash food in my bag when I wasn’t looking.”

They ate on the couch, Meg doing her best to appear indifferent about how good the food tasted even as Gabriel gave her that annoying pleased look that made her feel like saw right through her. He told her about some of the more interesting customers he’d seen at work that day, such as the mother-son combo who had bickered like an old married couple (“But man, she was a looker! Had an accent, too.”) and the friend of Missouri’s who had stopped by for lunch (“A blind palm reader, believe it or not.”) and the two men in suits who had apparently spent more time looking at each other than eating their food (“I swear, I was _this_ close to sticking my head through the food window and telling them to just kiss already: that was some serious eye-fucking they had going on.”). Meg rolled her eyes at the last one, wondering how anyone could be that oblivious to something right in front of them.

“So how’re you feeling?” Gabriel asked as they finished their cobbler. “Heard you coughing lots last night. You actually get any sleep?”

Meg sighed and shook her head. “Couldn’t get comfortable.”

“Make up for it today, at least?”

“No, but I did come up with about fifty ways to kill the idiot who got me sick.”

“Fun!” said Gabriel, standing and collecting their empty plates. “Care to share the highlights?”

“Current favorite involves shoving him into a giant salad spinner and cranking it until the Gs get him.”

Gabriel nodded in approval as he disappeared into the kitchen. “Creative, I like it.” Meg heard the sound of plates being put into the sink and soaked; a moment later, Gabriel emerged and resumed his seat on the couch. “What else you got?”

Meg shrugged, tugging her blanket tighter. “Could just stick him in here and let him freeze. Maybe that’ll be enough to make Chuck fix the fucking heat.”

Gabriel peered over at her. “You cold?”

“No, genius, I’m shivering from murderous excitement,” she deadpanned, but Gabriel just laughed.

“‘Genius’, huh? You know, I think that might just be the nicest thing you’ve ever called me,” he said wistfully, and before Meg could respond, he’d shifted to sit with his back against the arm of the couch and was extending a hand in her direction. “All right, Murder Queen, bring it in.”

“What for?”

“Because the murderous excitement part might have been a lie, but the shivering part wasn’t, and you know I tend to run hot. Probably due to my sunny disposition.”

“That, or you’re just full of hot air.”

“It’s charm, actually, but hey, points for trying,” quipped Gabriel, before tilting his head to regard her with a more earnest expression. “Seriously, though, come ’ere.” He waggled his eyebrows and added, “Promise I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She crawled forward, shifting with Gabriel until she was lying between his legs with her head tucked under his chin, the blanket now wrapped snugly over them both. Gabriel wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, and Meg closed her eyes, suppressing a contented sigh at how good the warmth felt.

“There, see?” came Gabriel’s voice, and she knew without looking that he was wearing that damned pleased-with-himself smile. “This is nice.”

Meg gave a sleepy, noncommittal grunt. “Yeah, well don’t get used to it,” she mumbled, feeling herself start to drift off. “This is a—” yawn “—a one-time thing.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Of course,” he said, and if she felt a little extra warmth at the soft kiss he pressed to the top of her head, well, that was neither here nor there.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr version of this story, if you enjoyed it and feel like sharing. :) [Warmth](https://petrichoravellichor.tumblr.com/post/185686426017/warmth-a-gabriel-x-meg-ficlet)
> 
> Kudos and/or comments are also greatly appreciated!


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